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SOLOMON 


JULIAN  HAWTHORNE- 


GIFT   OF 


I  send  you  with  my  compliments  this  little  story 
of  "The  Secret  of  Solomon",  which  may  amuse  you  for  a 
few  minutes,  and  perhaps — as  amusement  often  does  — 
discover  in  your  mind  something  which  you  had  not 
observed  there  before. 

That,  at  any  rate,  is  what  it  did  for  me.  When  I 
took  my  pen  to  it,  I  had  but  a  vague  notion  of  what 
was  coming.  But  as  I  wrote  on,  I  became  interested; 
ideas  took  shape  and  gained  substance;  a  sort  of  plot 
developed  itself;  the  Thing  somehow  got  a  beginning,  a 
middle  and  an  end,  — and  here  it  is! 

A  man  who  sells  muffins  for  a  living,  and  sells 
them  with  his  whole  heart,  finds  his  business  to  be 
an  organic  part  of  all  Business,  and  of  the  general 
scheme  of  the  Universe.  History  and  Philosophy  turn 
out  to  be  its  elder  sisters.  It  is  the  expression  of 
one  side  of  Human  Nature  —  the  muffin  side.  It  has 
its  little  romance,  related  to  the  great  Romance  of 
mortal  life.  And  the  more  the  man  thinks  of  it  in  this 
way,  the  greater  respect  will  he  feel  for  it,  the  more 
thoroughly  will  he  understand  it,  and  the  better 
(consequently)  will  he  do  it.  Moreover,  it  will  amuse 
him  to  reflect  that,  after  all,  the  whole  of  Mankind 
—  directly  or  indirectly  —  sells  muffins  for  a  living! 

As  members  of  the  corporation  of  Mankind, 
Unlimited,  you  and  I  may  therefore  profit  by  the  Secret 
of  Solomon.  And  if  you  like  the  story,  I  shall  be  glad 
I  wrote  it. 

Meanwhile  I  offer  you  assurance  of  my  distin 
guished  consideration,  and  I  am, 

Very  truly  your 


THE  SECRET  OF  SOLOMON 

BY  JULIAN  HAWTHORNE 


HOW  WISE  SOLOMON  WAS 

Of  all  sons  of  men,  King  Solomon  was  wisest; 
my  audience  has  heard  that  before;  but  I  have  a 
reason  for  reminding  them  of  it  now. 

In  his  Book  of  Proverbs  is  abundant  proof  of 
the  fact, — of  all  human  books  it  is  the  most  sagacious 
and  conservative,  and  the  sanest.  None  before  or 
since  has  known  men  and  the  world  as  Solomon  knew 
them,  their  frailties  and  follies. 

Spreading  far  and  wide,  the  fame  of  Solomon 
reached  Bakris,  Queen  of  Sheba,  herself  wise,  wealthy 
and  beautiful.  But  she  had  doubts  concerning  the 
wisdom  of  Solomon,  and,  in  order  to  determine  the 
matter,  she  journeyed  from  Southern  Arabia  to  Jeru 
salem,  carrying  with  her  a  selection  of  the  most 
difficult  riddles  in  the  world,  wherewith  to  test  his 
sagacity. 

The  Queen  was  most  hospitably  received  by  the 
Great  King,  who  solved  all  her  riddles  without  so  much 
as  clearing  his  throat  to  gain  time.  Whereupon  she 


Copyrighted   1909,  by  Julian  Hawthorne. 

343392 


made  him  handsome  presents,  and  the  confession,  no 
less  handsome,  that  she  found  him  yet  wiser  than  had 
been  reported.  So  they  became  friends;  and  the 
gossip  of  that  day  declares  that  from  this  Union  of 
Beauty  and  Wisdom,  the  Ethiopian  race  is  descended, 
— the  Ethiopians,  about  whom  we  had  imagined  we 
knew  something ! 

But  do  not  let  this  distract  your  minds  from  the 
wisdom  of  Solomon.  A  man  merely  learned  may 
nevertheless  be  a  fool;  but  a  wise  man,  never.  Nor 
was  Solomon's  wisdom  in  danger  of  degenerating  into 
the  dogmatism  of  senility;  for  he  came  to  the  throne 
in  his  'teens,  and  reigned  forty  years, — which  is  one 
more  nail  in  the  coffin  of  Dr.  Osier's  reputation. 

Moreover,  Solomon  built  the  Temple,  the  most 
wonderful  and  costly  building  in  the  world. 


HOW  WEALTHY  HE  WAS 

Where  did  Solomon  get  the  money  to  build  the 
Temple  ? 

That  brings  us  to  his  second  claim  to  distinction. 

Not  only  was  he  the  wisest,  he  was  also  the  rich 
est  man  in  the  world. 

How  rich  was  he? 

There  is  in  circulation  today  a  good  deal  more  of 
the  precious  metals  than  in  the  time  of  King  Solomon ; 
nevertheless,  we  have  it  on  Scriptural  authority  that 
his  revenues,  in  a  single  year,  were  Six  Hundred  and 
Sixty  Six  Talents  of  gold. 


What  would  that  mean  in  United  States  money  ? 

If — as  seems  probable — a  Hebrew  talent  of  gold 
be  worth  about  $25,000,  then  the  King's  income 
would  be  $16,500,000.  And,  if  interest  on  capital 
were  5%,  that  would  make  him  worth  something  like 
Three  Hundred  and  Thirty  Million  Dollars. 

Remember,  too,  that  the  purchasing  power  of  a 
dollar,  a  thousand  years  ago,  was  probably  near  a 
hundred  times  what  it  is  in  our  era. 

So  we  are  justified  in  saying  that  Solomon  was 
the  richest  of  mankind.  It  is  likely  he  could  have 
bought  out  King  Croesus  (who  lived  some  five  hun 
dred  years  later)  and  never  have  missed  the  money. 

Richest  as  well  as  wisest  of  mankind;  and  he 
built  the  Temple.  He  was  an  all-round  man — about 
the  biggest  we  know  of. 


WHERE  DID  HE  GET  IT? 

So  far  it  has  been  plain  sailing.  But  now  we 
come  to  the  third  point;  the  answer  to  which  will 
repay  consideration. 

Where   did  he  get  it? 

Did  he  make  it  in  the  Wall  Street  of  Jerusalem? 
No:  in  those  days  there  were  no  stocks  or  stock- 
markets. 

For  a  like  reason,  he  was  President  of  no  bank 
ing  or  insurance  companies. 

Nor  did  he,  like  our  Morses,  Edisons,  Marconis 
and  Bells,  patent  an  invention. 


Neither  did  he  corner  wheat,  or  exploit  a  steel  or 
any  other  trust. 

And — though  credited  with  occult  powers, — he 
did  not,  after  the  fashion  of  Mediaeval  alchemists, 
make  gold  from  baser  metals. 

Where,  then,  did  he  get  it?  Is  the  mystery  as 
impenetrable  as  that  which  veils  the  source  of  the 
wealth  of  some  of  our  political  contemporaries? 

Not  at  all;  there  is  no  mystery  about  the  matter. 

All  historians  agree  that  Solomon  got  his  gold 
from  the  Mines  of  Ophir. 

Yes,  he  was  a  miner, — this  Great  King;  his 
wealth  was  clean,  virgin  gold  out  of  the  ground.  He 
was  wise  enough  to  get  it  in  that  way,  and  too  wise 
to  try  to  get  it  in  any  other  way. 

A  wonderful  place  was  Ophir;  not  only  supply 
ing  gold  and  silver,  but  diamonds  and  other  precious 
stones,  peacocks,  sandalwood,  ivory,  and  apes.  But 
of  all  its  products,  gold  was  the  chief, — 24-carat  gold, 
running  to  $100,000  the  ton. 

Solomon  was  a  pioneer  miner  of  Ophir. 

That  is  where  his  Three  Hundred  Million  Dollars 
came  from. 


THE  GEOGRAPHICAL  PROBLEM 

But  where  were,  or  are,  the  Mines  of  Ophir? 
They   are   like   the   Garden  of  Eden   in   that  re 
spect;  nobody  really  knows. 

In  Arabia,  say  some;  others,  on  the  further  side 


of  India;  and  my  friend,  Mr.  Rider  Haggard,  in  kis 
fascinating  Romance  of  "King  Solomon's  Mines," 
places  them  in  Darkest  Africa. 

One  thing,  however,  we  do  know  about  the  site  of 
Ophir,  and  that  is,  that  it  took  King  Solomon's  ships 
three  years  to  get  there. 

Three  years — think  of  it ! 

And — providing  all  went  well,  three  more  to  get 
back  again.  Allowing  one  year  for  the  digging, 
which,  without  our  modern  quick-action  machinery, 
is  not  much,  Solomon  had  to  wait  seven  mortal  years 
for  a  single  shipment. 

That  would  be  only  about  five  shipments  in  the 
forty  years.  They  must  have  been  big  ones. 

And  what  appalling  obstacles ! 

No  trains  or  steamboats;  no  telegraphs  or  wire 
less;  not  so  much  as  a  post-office.  Travelers'  tales 
were  the  sole  source  of  news ;  and  the  seas  were  thick 
with  the  worst  sort  of  pirates. 

A  mine  three  years  away.  Nowadays,  you  might 
as  well  tell  your  prospective  investor  that  your  mine 
was  in  the  Moon. 

Why,  Weston,  the  pedestrian,  walking  three  and 
a  half  miles  an  hour,  takes  three  months  to  travel  four 
thousand  miles  on  railway  ties  and  motor  roads  across 
this  continent.  At  that  rate,  to  circumambulate  the 
entire  globe  would  consume  eighteen  months. 

And  eighteen  months  is  only  half  the  time  Sol 
omon  needed  to  reach  the  Mines  of  Ophir. 

Now,  suppose  a  promoter  (the  most  eloquent  one 
alive)  got  in  touch  with  the  most  reckless  of  all  pos- 


sible  investors,  and  suggested  to  him  the  development 
of  a  mine  twice  as  far  away  as  all  round  the  world 
afoot. 

Would  a  committee  of  alienists  be  required  to  sit 
on  such  a  case? 

He  would  be  voted  to  a  padded  cell  by  popular 
acclamation. 

But  are  you  able  to  conceive  of  an  investor  agree 
ing  to  such  a  proposition? 

You  don't  have  to  conceive  of  it,  for  none  such 
exists. 

Not  today, — nevertheless,  one  did  exist  three 
thousand  years  ago. 

Was  he  a  fool,  or  a  maniac? 

Not  exactly.  He  was  universally  acknowledged 
to  be  the  wisest  of  mankind. 

And  his  name  was — Solomon. 


SOLOMON'S  SECRET  OF  SUCCESS 

The  audience  now  sees  what  I  am  driving  at. 

Solomon,  wisest  of  Kings  and  men,  author  of 
the  sanest  and  safest  of  books,  was  a  gambler. 

Compared  with  the  mining  risk  he  took,  the  wild 
est  risks  of  our  day  are  child's  play, — school-boys 
amusing  themselves  with  marbles  on  the  street-corner. 

What  shall  we  do  about  it?  Say  that  it  was  the 
single  folly  of  a  man  otherwise  chief  of  sages? 

No:  for,  since  the  world  made  its  first  summer 
sault  in  space,  the  sole  child  of  folly  has  been  disaster. 


But  Solomon's  gamble,  so  far  from  breeding  disaster, 
made  him  a  multi-millionaire,  and  enabled  him  to 
build  the  Temple. 

And  no  King  of  our  day  could  duplicate  that 
Temple,  even  at  the  cost  of  joining  the  bread-line. 

There  is  no  getting  round  it.  Solomon  made  him 
self  richest  of  men  by  a  gamble.  And  that  gamble, 
so  far  from  convicting  him  of  folly,  was  the  crowning 
illustration  of  his  sagacity. 

Evidently,  to  profit  by  this  lesson,  we  must  revise 
some  of  our  fixed  notions. 

First  let  us  recognize  the  truth  that  there  are 
gamblers — and  gamblers. 

One  kind  of  gambler  puts  his  last  gold-piece  on 
the  red,  and  when  black  comes  up,  goes  forth  and 
sends  a  bullet  through  his  head  in  Monte  Carlo  Gar 
dens. 

He  trusted  to  brute  luck;  his  only  use  for  a 
brain  was  to  shoot  that  bullet  through  it.  He  be 
lieved — no,  not  believed,  for  belief  implies  intellect — 
he  deluded  himself  with  the  notion  that  Something 
may  be  got  for  Nothing,  in  this  world. 

Prompted  by  greed,  debilitated  by  self-indul 
gence,  narcotized  by  ignorance,  he  shut  his  eyes  and 
jumped. 

He  hoped  to  land  in  the  Mines  of  Ophir;  but 
what  happened  was,  that  he  tumbled  over  a  steep 
place  into  the  Sea. 

He  was  one  kind  of  a  gambler — the  kind  that 
Solomon  was  NOT. 

Here   let  me  call  your  attention  to  something.— 


We  have  gambling  houses,  run  by  so-called  gam 
blers.  They  are  frequented  by  men  who  bet  on  the 
turn  of  the  die,  always  losing  in  the  long  and  often  in 
the  short  run,  and  pauperizing  themselves  if  they 
keep  at  it. 

It  is  these  men — not  the  keepers  of  the  establish 
ment — who  are  the  real  gamblers. 

The  keepers  of  the  establishment  are  not  gam 
blers  at  all;  for,  so  far  from  courting  chance,  they 
are  sedulous  to  take  no  chances. 

Their  dice  are  loaded,  their  cards  marked,  their 
roulette  wheels  obey  their  hand.  They  always  play 
the  sure  thing. 

Not  on  any  gambling  of  their  own,  but  on  their 
customers'  gambling  do  they  grow  rich.  They  work 
on  a  principle  opposite  as  the  poles  to  their  customers'. 

And  the  imbecility  which  prompts  the  latter  to 
pour  their  money  into  the  former's  laps  should  not 
be  blamed  on  the  gambling-house  keepers,  who  merely 
afford  facilities  for  the  exploitation  of  this  imbecility. 

Be  that  as  it  may,  Solomon  belonged  to  neither 
class. 

What  sort  of  a  gambler,  then,  was  he? 


THE  SORT  OF  A  GAMBLER   SOLOMON  WAS 

When  the  Great  King,  casting  about  for  means 
to  build  his  Temple,  adopted  the  Ophir  Mines  scheme, 
he  was  neither  shutting  his  eyes  and  jumping  at 
hazard,  nor  was  he  playing  a  sure  thing. 


No  absolutely  sure  thing  exists;  even  a  loaded 
die  may  lose. 

Solomon  knew  he  was  taking  a  risk. 

The  promoters  might  be  liars,  or  self-deceived. 
That  was  an  obvious  risk. 

Do  you  know  how  Solomon  met  it? 

By  his  profound  knowledge  of  the  human  heart. 
He  tested  the  integrity  and  judgment  of  those  pro 
moters  to  the  last  fibre,  as  he  would  test  the  rope 
which  was  to  swing  him  across  an  abyss. 

Other  risks  he  met  by  his  knowledge  of  natural 
laws  and  of  human  affairs.  Was  a  mine  likely  to 
exist  where  they  said?  Could  it  be  as  rich  as  they 
asserted?  Was  labor  for  its  working  available? 
Would  expenses  outweigh  profits?  Vital  questions, 
to  which  his  wisdom  must  find  answers. 

The  Great  King,  in  short,  was  not  under  the 
delusion  that  Something  may  be  had  for  Nothing. 
He  was  ready  to  give  the  Quid  pro  Quo. 

Against  the  treasures  of  Ophir,  he  staked  the 
treasures  of  a  wisdom  not  less  inestimable.  He  knew 
that,  to  control  the  Goddess  of  Chance,  he  must  bring 
to  the  struggle  intelligence,  prudence  and  persistence 
such  as  to  equalize  the  odds.  He  did  not  shut  his 
eyes,  but  opened  them  to  their  widest. 

Yet,  after  all  precautions  and  calculations,  be 
sure  that  Solomon  knew  his  risk,  and  that  even  his 
wisdom  had  its  limits.  Yes,  Ophir  was  a  risk;  but  a 
risk  worthy  a  King's  taking;  and  Solomon  was  King 
and  man  and  gambler  enough  to  take  it. 


If  he  lost,  the  Temple  could  never  be  built,  and 
his  reign  would  be  a  failure. 

But,  with  his  wits  about  him,  with  all  his  re 
sources  at  command,  he  accepted  the  challenge  of 
destiny — and  he  won. 

That  was  the  sort  of  gambler  Solomon  was. 


OTHER  GAMBLERS 

That  was  the  Secret  of  Solomon;  he  was  a 
gambler. 

And  without  that  element  in  his  nature,  never, 
for  all  his  wisdom,  would  he  have  accomplished  the 
mighty  works  by  which  we  know  him  and  for  which 
we  honor  him. 

Nor  was  it  a  blot  on  hie  character;  it  was  one 
of  his  noblest  endowments. 

I  will  say  more; — every  man  whose  acts  have 
advanced  civilization,  created  new  eras  in  history, 
conferred  signal  benefits  on  mankind, — all  men  of 
that  stamp  have  been  such  gamblers  as  was  Solomon. 

Alexander  the  Great — what  a  titanic  gambler 
was  he !  What  enterprise  more  desperate  than  the 
conquest  of  the  world  with  a  handful  of  Macedonian 
soldiers ! 

But  that  marvellous  Boy  had  calculated  the  odds. 
The  greatest  of  philosophers  and  scientists — Aristotle 
— had  developed  his  mind;  the  greatest  soldier  before 
himself — his  own  father,  Philip — had  taught  him  the 
art  and  practice  of  war;  he  knew  what  clumsy  rabbles 


were  the  armies  opposed  to  him;  he  knew  the  impreg 
nability  of  that  Macedonian  phalanx  of  his, — and  he 
trusted  to  his  own  towering  ambition  and  genius.  He 
was  a  successful  gambler  who  deserved  success. 

Another  of  the  giant  brotherhood — Julius  Caesar 
— was  a  gambler  as  successful  as  and  more  reckless 
than  Alexander.  His  debts  before  he  was  twenty 
were  high  in  the  millions.  By  way  of  getting  even 
with  the  world,  he  conquered  it. 

But,  before  that,  captured  by  pirates  (as  ruthless 
and  lawless  cutthroats  as  ever  flew  the  black  flag) 
Caesar,  standing  solitary  on  their  deck,  actually 
assumed  command  of  the  ship  and  ordered  the  des 
peradoes  about  like  poodle-dogs.  He  bade  them  steer 
for  his  own  home-port,  promising  them  as  reward  a 
hanging  as  soon  as  they  got  there.  What  is  more, 
on  arrival,  he  fulfilled  his  promise  down  to  the  last 
scoundrel. 

In  his  European  campaigns,  his  legions  always 
conquered;  but  in  the  eye  and  voice  of  Caesar  was 
something  which  conquered  the  legions  themselves. 
Finally,  by  crossing  the  Rubicon,  he  challenged  the 
Power  which  had  overcome  all  nations ;  but  Rome 
herself  had  to  }ield  to  Caesar,  the  gambler  who  made 
Chance  obey  him. 

Then,  that  slim,  aquiline,  sallow  little  Corsican 
student  at  Brienne, — he  too  had  the  soul  of  an  heroic 
gambler.  Before  he  was  thirty,  the  Continent  was  at 
his  mercy.  But,  like  other  great  gamblers  whose 
game  is  war,  Napoleon  was  at  last  destroyed  by  forces 
he  had  himself  unleashed. 


Gamblers  who,  like  Solomon,  win  in  the  long  last, 
are  those  who  devote  their  genius  and  fortune  to  the 
cause  of  prosperity  and  peace.  For,  then,  the  laws 
of  nature  and  the  interests  of  humanity  fight  on  their 
side. 

The  latest  famous  gambler  of  this  sort  died  only 
the  other  day. 

His  name  was  Cecil  Rhodes. 


A  MODERN  WORLD-MAKER 

Let  the  young  men  in  this  audience  listen;  for 
this  is  the  story  of  a  young  man. 

Cecil  Rhodes,  an  Englishman,  gambled  more  for 
England's  sake  than  his  own. 

He  was  nothing  astounding  to  look  at, — a  quiet, 
courteous  young  Oxford  graduate,  delicate  of  consti 
tution  (he  went  to  Africa  for  his  health;)  self-pos 
sessed,  observant,  thoughtful.  But  no  man  in  Eng 
land  had  a  soul  so  big,  deep  and  daring  as  his.  And 
he  was  a  gambler  to  the  marrow. 

He  needed  Africa  not  for  his  bodily  health  only, 
but  for  his  mind  and  imagination  too. 

Remember  that  nothing  else  is  more  indispensa 
ble  to  greatness  in  a  man  than  imagination.  The 
best  men  have  always  been  men  of  imagination.  But 
for  the  imagination  of  Christopher  Columbus,  where 
would  we  be  to-day? 

England  is  an  island — quite  an  island  too  in  its 
way — but  Rhodes  could  not  get  air  enough  to  breathe 


in  it;  his  imagination  was  not  insular,  but  continental, 
nay,  world-wide. 

The  continent  of  Africa  served  to  set  him  going. 

Some  men — notable  in  their  degree — regard  Africa 
as  a  place  to  shoot  big  game  in;  beyond  that  they 
see  nothing  in  it. 

Others — like  Livingstone — have  spent  unselfish 
lives  in  the  effort  to  enlighten  the  minds  and  uplift 
the  moral  nature  of  black  men. 

Still  others,  like  Beit  and  Bernato,  sought  Africa 
for  fortunes,  and  made  them. 

Compared  with  such  people,  Rhodes  was  as  a 
California  sequoia  to  the  sapling  peach-tree  strug 
gling  for  life  in  your  back-yard. 

Sitting  in  meditation  in  his  veranda  chair  one 
evening,  his  mind  surveyed  the  mighty  region  to  the 
north — rivers,  mountain-chains,  forests,  valleys,  table 
lands, — and  his  imagination  pictured  all  as  an  empire 
for  England — as  the  future  scene  of  a  national  power 
and  wealth  and  of  a  human  expansion  and  develop 
ment,  the  like  whereof  the  world  had  never  yet  beheld. 

He  said — but  so  low  that  the  man  in  the  neigh 
boring  chair  did  not  catch  the  words — "I'll  do  it." 

He  was  a  mere  boy  in  years,  utterly  unknown, 
with  no  pull  social  or  political,  and  with  an  income  of 
perhaps  $1500  a  year. 

But  he  had  that  soul,  and  that  imagination,  and 
he  was  a  gambler. 

At  dinner  that  evening  he  remarked  to  the  man 
opposite,  "A  railway  from  the  Cape  to  Cairo  would 
be  a  good  thing." 


The  man  opposite  chuckled  indulgently. 
"Dreams,  my  boy.  Get  down  to  the  practical." 

Rhodes  said  (to  himself  this  time),  "Money  is  my 
need.  Well,  I'll  get  it." 

Kimberly  diamond  mines  were  starting  then.  Beit 
and  Barnato  were  in  them.  Rhodes,  using  men,  in 
his  quiet  way,  as  we  use  a  spoon  for  porridge,  joined 
them ;  and  money  began  to  come. 

For  money  he  personally  cared  no  more  than  do 
you  for  your  last  year's  shoes;  but  for  its  aid  toward 
realizing  his  dreams  he  did  care.  So  he  dug  diamonds 
by  handfuls  out  of  the  stiff  blue  clay  in  the  conical 
pits;  and  broke  off  clusters  of  gold  from  the  reefs  of 
the  north,  till  he  could  count  his  wealth  by  millions 
sterling,  and  his  credit  in  countless  millions  more. 

Child's  play — for  him — but  useful. 

He  also  recognized  the  value  of  political  influ 
ence;  at  thirty-one  he  was  in  the  Cape  Ministry;  at 
thirty-six  he  was  Prime  Minister. 

England  and  the  woilJ  had  begun  to  know  him 
now,  and  followed  his  course  with  mouths  agape. 

His  dream  of  empire  was  taking  form.  Study 
the  plans  he  laic  and  the  deeds  he  did, — their  far- 
reaching  wisdom  and  tremendous  energy. 

But  all  at  once,  the  Boer  War  happened. 

What  was  a  war  to  Cecil  Rhodes? — A  gambler's 
risk.  He  shrugged  his  shoulders,  but  never  flinched 
or  swerved. 

Summoned  to  England  to  explain  things,  he  ap 
peared  before  a  Parliamentary  Committee  composed 
of  the  ablest  men  in  England. 


Rhodes  treated  them  as  the  head-master  treats 
the  kindergarten  class, — kindly,  patiently,  but  with 
the  invincible  superiority  of  his  genius. 

He  dominated  them  as  Pike's  Peak  dominates 
Colorado  Springs.  He  gave  them  a  needed  lesson  in 
the  meaning  and  ethics  of  gambling;  after  which  they 
bowed  him  humbly  out,  and  never  again  meddled  with 
him. 

The  world-beater  resumed  his  labor  of  world- 
building. 

But  now  came  a  new  interruption — Death. 

Another  gambler's  risk,  which  Rhodes  accepted 
with  composure.  For  he  knew  that  the  seed  he  had 
sown  would  bring  forth  grain,  and  was  too  great  to 
grieve  that  it  would  be  reaped  by  others.  He  died, 
assured  that  his  work  would  be  completed.  He  died — 
but  will  live  as  long  as  England. 


THE  COMPANY 

But  whether  Rhodes  had  lived  or  died,  men  of 
his  strain  always  arise  to  keep  up  the  great  tradition. 

Always  will  there  be  great  World-builders, 
Leaders  of  Civilization,  to  carry  on  the  mission  begun 
by  their  predecessors. 

Invention,  Discovery.  Commerce,  Industry,  are 
immortal.  The  Firm  of  Solomon,  Columbus,  Rhodes 
and  Company  will  never  lack  living  representatives. 

Benjamin  Franklin  got  the  first  human  grip  on 
electricity  in  1752.  Morse's  telegraph  followed 


ninety  /ears  after.  Edison,  thirty-seven  years  ago, 
made  it  print  its  messages.  Bell,  in  1876,  taught  his 
voice  to  ride  on  the  current,  with  but  a  wire  to  hold 
on  by,  for  thousands  of  miles;  and  only  the  other  day, 
young  Marconi  dropped  the  wire,  and  carries  on  liv 
ing  conversations,  through  empty  air,  across  oceans. 

These  members  of  the  Company  have  trans 
formed  the  business  world,  and  hundreds  of  thousands 
of  men  and  women  find  daily  employment  in  handling 
their  inventions. 

George  Stephenson  built  his  locomotive  in  1830. 
Mankind  began  running  to  and  fro  upon  the  earth, 
subduing  it,  and  making  one  another's  acquaintance. 
In  1859  George  Pullman  enabled  them  to  go  to  bed 
and  sleep  at  night  on  their  way.  And  again  thou 
sands  upon  thousands  of  idle  hands  got  work  to  do. 

And  then  appeared  the  organizers. 

Lincoln  and  Grant  saved  the  Union;  but  the 
Railroad  Kings  kept  it  alive  after  it  was  saved.  And 
if  two  million  men  risked  their  lives  in  the  Civil  War, 
how  many  more  have  owed  their  living  to  railroads 
since  the  War  was  fought? 

Vanderbilt  began  the  wonderful  game  of  amal 
gamating  roads  and  managing  them  from  a  centra! 
seat  of  authority.  Huntington  and  his  rivals  or  asso 
ciates  bestrode  the  continent  and  bound  its  Pacific 
coast  with  steel.  '  .v1  when  only  the  other  day  Har- 
riman  opened  his  .  .th,  the  world  paid  even  stricter 
attention  than  to  a  Presidential  Message. 

Railroads  need  steel.  Carnegie,  the  canny 
Scotch  peasant-boy,  opened  his  first  little  factory  in 


1865;  Bessemer  perfected  his  process  five  years  later; 
and  with  an  explosion,  as  it  were,  steel  rose  from 
the  bottom  to  the  top  of  the  heap.  The  sum  which 
the  Steel  Corporation  set  apart  for  up-keep  and  im 
provements,  after  earning  dividends,  has  been  some 
thing  like  232,000,000  dollars  during  the  past  eight  or 
nine  years. 

One  of  their  iron-ore  mines  contains  400  million 
tons  of  the  best  sort  of  ore. 

Rockefeller  started  neck  and  neck  with  Carnegie. 
He  found,  after  a  few  years,  that  he  was  producing 
4%  of  the  oil  in  this  country.  He  put  those 
economical  and  far-seeing  brains  of  his  at  work,  and 
in  seven  years  more  he  was  selling  95%  of  the 
total  American  output.  The  Trust  has  a  payroll  of 
70,000  persons,  and  its  net  profits  per  annum  are  800 
million  dollars — or  more. 

There  were  a  dozen  big  tobacco  men  thirty  years 
ago.  Competition  ate  into  their  profits.  Duke,  and 
a  few  other  men  of  industrial  genius,  got  them  to 
gether,  and  now  the  New  American  Tobacco  Com 
pany  earns  per  annum  27  million  dollars  net. 

Cotton  is  still  King  in  the  United  States;  and 
though  there  have  been  a  few  half-hearted  attempts, 
no  man  or  allied  group  of  men  is  as  yet  King  of 
Cotton.  But  the  capitalization  of  American  cotton 
interests  is  750  million  dollars;  and  two  and  a  half 
million  persons  get  their  living  handling  it. 

But  this  enumeration  may  as  well  stop : — there  is 
no  end  to  it. 

The  gist  of  it  all  is,  that  the  present  stupendous 


industrial  production  of  this  country  :s  due  to  the 
brains  and  energy  of  a  mere  handful  of  individuals, — 
all  of  them  members  in  good  standing  of  the  Firm 
of  Solomon,  Columbus,  Rhodes  and  Company. 

By  organizing  and  economizing  the  work  of  the 
nation,  they  have  hastened  our  development  by  hun 
dreds  of  years;  they  have  put  money  in  people's 
pockets  and  bread  in  their  mouths,  and  they  have 
saved  all  hands  uncounted  billions  of  dollars. 

But  they  are  Gamblers? 

Yes :  and  it  begins  to  look  as  if  gambling  were  not 
so  black  as  it  is  painted. 

THE  TALENT  IN  THE  NAPKIN 

Now  arises  a  pink-faced  gentleman  in  a  plump 
white  waistcoat. 

He  says. — "Gambling,  as  you  term  it — specula 
tion  might  be  a  more  accurate  word — is  all  very  well 
for  persons  with  large  fortunes,  or  for  men  of  indus 
trial  and  inventive  talent.  But  most  people  are  only 
fairly  well  off.  Why  is  it  not  wiser  for  them  to  stay 
on  the  safe  side? — retain  what  they  have,  rather  than 
risk  losing  it  by  grasping  after  what  they  may  never 
get?" 

This  gentleman  owns  a  talent,  done  up  in  a 
napkin,  in  a  safe-deposit  drawer. 

It  is  doing  nothing  there, — helping  no  one.  But 
he  thinks  it's  safe. 

Well,  he  will  certainly  not  lose  it.  But  then  he 
will  never  use  it  either. 


And  what,  after  all,  is  the  difference  between 
losing  and  never  using? 

The  pink-faced  gentleman  is  a  conservative. 

\Yere  all  like  him, — were  there  no  Firm  of  Solo 
mon,  Columbus,  Rhodes  and  Company, — he  might 
still  have  a  pink  face;  but  he  would  not  have  a  white 
waistcoat.  For  he  would  be  a  primeval  savage  in  a 
grass  girdle.  And  nothing  would  have  been  done 
since  the  Flood  to  make  the  world  different  from  what 
it  was  at  the  start. 

Men  who  live  by  brains  and  courage  live  in  their 
deeds  after  their  bodies  are  dust. 

Parasites  (conservatives)  live  on  the  brains  and 
courage  of  Solomon  &  Co.,  and,  dying,  are  perfectly 
and  permanently  dead. 

"Keep  on  the  safe  side !"  is  the  conservatives' 
motto. 

Solomon  &  Co.  have  several.     For  example : — 

"One  crowded  hour  of  glorious  life  is  worth  a 
world  without  a  name !" 

Another: — "There  is  a  tide  in  the  affairs  of  men 
which,  taken  at  the  flood,  leads  on  to  Fortune.  Omit 
ted,  all  the  voyage  of  their  life  is  bound  in  shallows 
and  in  miseries." 

Or,  that  anecdote  of  Queen  Elizabeth  and  her 
noble  suitor : — 

"Fain  would  I  climb,  but  that  I  fear  to  fall!" 
wrote  his  timid  little  lordship  on  the  great  Queen's 
chamber  window-pane,  with  his  diamond  ring. 

"If    thy   heart   fail    thee,    do    not    climb    at    all!" 


wrote  the  wise  and  royal  Virgin  beneath  it ;  and,  later, 
she  had  the  young  gentleman's  head  chopped  off. 

But  poetry  and  tradition  are  full  of  boosts  for 
gamblers;  whereas  the  comments  on  conservatives  are 
seldom  complimentary. 

He  that  locks  his  talent  in  a  safe-deposit  drawer, 
locks  up  his  soul  along  with  it. 

But  no  key  turns  on  the  souls  of  the  Solomon 
folk. 

They  have  put  out  their  talent  at  interest  in  the 
world,  and  the  world  is  theirs  forever. 


THE  ROLL-CALL 

Will  any  person  in  the  audience  who  wants  some 
thing  he  has  not,  please  rise? 

— All  are  on  their  legs — even  the  conservatives. 

Now  let  us  see  what  each  of  you  desires. 

The  salaried  men  would  like  to  cease  being  other 
men's  men. 

Professional  men  would  like  a  chance  to  catch 
their  breath. 

Business  men  would  like  another  string  to  their 
bow. 

Politicians  would  like  to  be  able  to  tell  frankly 
where  they  got  it. 

Clergymen  and  philanthropists  would  like  means 
to  do  good. 

Artists  of  all  kinds  would  like  to  cultivate  art 
instead  of  patrons. 


Farmers  would  like  security  against  short  crops, 
bad  markets,  and  murderous  freight  rates. 

Capitalists,  of  course,  would  like  a  good  invest 
ment. 

Poor  men  would  like  security  from  the  poor- 
house. 

Idle  men  would  like  a  spur  in  life. 

Young  men  would  like  the  sinews  of  war. 

Old  men  would  like  an  evening  of  peace. 

Columbuses  would  like  their  caravels  and  crews. 

Rhodeses  would  like  their  Cape-to-Cairo  railways. 

Solomons  would  like  their  temples. 

The  world  is  still  unfinished,  and  each  of  us, 
in  his  own  way  and  degree,  would  like  a  hand  in  the 
nnishing. 

It  appears,  then,  that  the  thing  which  you  all 
want,  and  have  not,  or  have  not  enough  of.  is  money. 

For  money  means  for  each,  ability  to  take  part  in 
life  in  the  manner  best  suited  to  him. 

How,  then,  would  you  prefer  to  get  your  money? 

In  the  form  of  wages,  or  of  alms,  from  others? 

Or  would  you  rob,  or  trick  others  out  of  money? 

Or  would  you  choose,  diminishing  no  one's  pos 
sessions,  to  increase  the  wealth  of  all  along  with 
your  own? 

If  so,  then  but  one  course  is  open  to  you. 

You  must  bear  a  hand  in  finishing  the  world. 


RECESSIONAL 

Unwrap  from  its  napkin  that  talent  in  the  safe- 
deposit  drawer. 

Take  the  tide  at  its  flood. 

Climb,  and  do  not  fall. 

Open  the  door  to  opportunity. 

Remember,  that  the  most  paltry  way  to  lose  is — 
not  to  use ! 

But  remember,  too,  that  Solomon  looked  before 
he  leaped. 

Study  the  situation  well. 

In  the  whirl  of  excitement,  keep  your  head  level. 

Trust  those  who  have  proved  themselves  trust 
worthy. 

Listen  most  to  those  who  talk  lowest  and  promise 
least. 

But,  having  resolved  what  to  do,  be  prompt. 

For  he  that  lingers  till  tomorrow  buys  dear  what 
was  cheap  yesterday. 

As  the  audience  retires,  let  each  person  take  a 
copy  of  the  verses  which  will  be  handed  to  them,  writ 
ten  three  hundred  years  ago. 

Read  it  and  lay  it  to  heart. 

He  either  fears  his  fate  too  much, 

Or  his  desert  is  small, 
Who  dares  not  put  it  to  the  touch  — 
To  win  or  lose  it  all! 


Return  to  desk  from  which 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  dates* 


LD21 


_100m-9,'47(A5702S16)476 


YB  05884 


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